Birthday
by littleoases
Summary: Santana celebrates her birthday. Brittany makes it her most special one yet.


On the morning of her birthday, she wakes up with an excited flutter in her stomach. She chooses her favorite underwear, favorite earrings, favorite eyeshadow to wear that day. Brittany's first text (_HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY!_) and her mom's huevos rancheros add to the happy feeling she has that morning, and when she walks out to her car, all buttoned up in her winter coat, the square envelope sitting on the windshield thrills her.

It's from Brittany, of course.

_OPEN ME! _

She opens it, already smiling, and finds a CD labelled _PLAY ME RIGHT AWAY!_

She starts the car, blasts the heat, backs out of her driveway and hits the first main road before she slides the CD into her audio player. The car immediately fills with the sound of Brittany's voice.

"Haaaaaa-aaaa-aaaaapp-eeeee-eeeee biiiiiiiirrrrrrrrth-daaaaaaaaaay," Brittany sings exaggeratedly, her voice rising and falling like she's Mariah Carey. Santana hears Brittany laugh at herself, and then Brittany sings in her normal, happy voice, "Happy birthday to you; happy birthday to you; happy birthday, my Santana; happy birthday to you!"

Santana grins big even though her teeth are chattering. She drives down Souths Bridge while Brittany's voice fills the space of her car, this time in plain speech.

"So…hi, baby. I wanted to be able to wish you a happy birthday as soon as your day started, so I made you this voice recording, and now my family probably thinks I'm a huge weirdo because they probably just heard me singing at the top of my lungs at nine o'clock at night. Anyway, you're 18 now, which means you're legal, which means if I was for some reason way older than you, our relationship would now be allowed. And also you can vote now. And you can buy cigarettes and porn…please don't, though."

Santana laughs into the empty space of her car.

"This is a special birthday, so we're going to celebrate big. I want you to text me as soon as you get to school so I can sneak you a birthday kiss in the parking lot. And later tonight, you and I are gonna have-" her voice deepens - "BIRTH. DAY. SEX!"

Santana laughs so hard that the old man driving next to her looks over.

"So, in conclusion, happy birthday, and I love you. You being born is the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean that, San. Remember to text me when you get to school!"

Brittany makes a kissing noise on the audio track, and then the CD shuts off.

…

_You're such a goof. I just got to school. Come kiss me :-)._

About two minutes after she sends the text, she sees Brittany walking toward her car, her smile visible from a dozen yards away. Santana trains her eyes on Brittany and watches as she comes closer and closer, her smile growing larger the whole time.

Brittany opens the passenger door and beams at Santana. "Hi, birthday girl."

Santana smiles giddily. "Hi."

Brittany climbs into the passenger seat and slams the door shut behind her. She glances around the parking lot, sees that no one is near Santana's car, and then kisses Santana so excitedly that Santana's stomach leaps.

"This is your birthday kiss," Brittany mutters against her mouth. She kisses Santana once, twice, three times in rapid succession, then kisses her long and hard.

"Jesus," Santana mumbles. "It needs to be my birthday every day."

Brittany smiles, kisses her nose, and pulls back. "How'd you like the CD?"

"I loved it. It's amazing. This old guy at a stoplight was like staring at me because I was laughing so hard."

"Good," says Brittany. She kisses Santana again.

Santana raises a hand to Brittany's face and tucks her hair behind her ear. "This is already the most amazing birthday ever. Thanks, baby."

Brittany takes Santana's hand from her face and kisses her palm. "Love you, birthday girl. Come on, let's go in."

…

Of course Brittany decorated her locker.

"Britt! It's so cute!"

Brittany smiles proudly at the wrapping paper that covers Santana's locker. "Yeah? I didn't know whether to go with purple or pink. I know you like purple better, but I thought the pink would be more eye-catching."

"No, I like the pink. It's perfect."

"Well, let me be the first to sign, then." Brittany pulls a dark blue Sharpie from her backpack and approaches Santana's locker. She scribbles across the wrapping paper without hesitation, then steps back and grins at Santana, capping the marker firmly.

_Happy Birthday, Santana! I love you! xoxo B_

It's simple, but Santana can't think of anything better.

"Mercedes!" Brittany calls. "Come here! Sign Santana's locker!"

Mercedes strides over and smiles at them. "Hey, Santana, happy birthday."

"Thanks, Wheezy."

Mercedes takes the marker from Brittany and writes _From one star to another - Happy birthday! Love, W._

"'W'?"

"For Wheezy," Mercedes grins. "Figured you'd like that."

Santana beams and pulls on her backpack straps, giddy.

"I'm just gonna put this here," Brittany says, sliding the sharpie onto the wrapping paper so that it catches by its cap. "Then our other friends will be able to sign later."

"I'm gonna get to class," Mercedes says. "Catch you guys at lunch!"

"We should get going, too. Grab your stuff, San?"

"Yeah, just a sec."

Santana's hand brushes against the smooth wrapping paper as she turns her combination. She swings the locker open, and-

Her eyes land on a single red rose, strewn delicately across the top of her textbooks.

"Britt," she says quietly, holding up the rose.

Brittany smiles. "I didn't want to get you a dozen because then, you know, there goes the fun of Valentine's Day…and I read online that yellow means friendship, and I didn't want to get you friendship roses, I wanted to get you a romantic rose-"

Santana cuts her off with a hard hug. She burrows her head into Brittany's neck and sighs against her chest. Brittany wraps her arms around Santana's back and rests her chin on the top of Santana's head.

"You are so, so cute," Santana says quietly. "_So _cute."

Brittany giggles. "Easy to be cute when I'm dating, like, the world's cutest person ever."

Santana squeezes her hard around the middle and pulls back from the hug. "You're also setting a really high bar here. How am I going to top this when it's your birthday?"

"Easy," Brittany says. "Just don't wear any clothes to school. It'll be the highlight of my year."

"Mmmmm no," Santana says, booping Brittany's nose with the head of the rose. "But nice try."

"Be careful with that flower, Santana. It's like the one in _Beauty and the Beast_. You don't want to mess it up."

"I'm going to leave it in here so it doesn't get ruined, okay?" She lays the flower back across the books, then looks at it for a moment. It's real: it's a real red rose from Brittany. Santana smiles at it - and at the meaning behind it. "It's beautiful, BrittBritt."

Brittany claps her hands together, pleased with herself for making Santana happy.

Santana shuts her locker and takes in the wrapping paper and birthday messages once more. "Too great," she says, more to herself than to Brittany.

"Come on, birthday girl," Brittany says, tugging on a loop on Santana's backpack.

They walk down the hall, hearing a few birthday wishes along the way, before they get to Santana's AP Calculus class. Brittany taps Santana's wrist, nudging her toward the door.

"Nothing better than math on your birthday," Brittany grins. "See you later, San."

Santana pulls her own arms closer to her body to hold in her giddiness. She says "Bye, Britt" with her mouth and "I love you, Britt" with her eyes. Brittany gets it; she always does. She smiles at Santana - still with that newfound joy that is _them _- and heads down the hall to her English class.

…

"I just don't understand why you would want somebody other than _me_ to sing a Celine Dion song," Rachel says. "I think we can all agree that I'm best-suited for that vocal range-"

"Oh, stuff a sock in your mouth, Berry," Santana says.

"Why do you want to sing Celine Dion, anyway? You told me you thought she was overrated," Mercedes adds.

"And you're not even Spanish," says Brittany.

"Guys, enough already!" Mr. Schuester shouts. "I haven't even decided if we're going to do a Celine Dion song. I was just suggesting it."

"Ugh," Kurt huffs. "We obviously should cover her at some point."

"Let's do somebody hotter than her," Puck says. "That lady's like-weird and stuff."

"_Puck_," says Mr. Schue. "Enough. We'll discuss more potential song choices tomorrow. I think we've had enough discussion for today."

The glee kids mumble and shift in their chairs.

"Brittany?" Mr. Schue asks. "You had something you wanted to say?"

"True dat," Brittany says, rising from her chair. She glances at Quinn and Tina, who nod and scurry to the back corner of the choir room.

"Well…" says Brittany, addressing everyone from the front of the room, "we have a very special birthday to celebrate today."

Santana's mouth opens with a slight, surprised smile; Brittany catches her eye and grins, then drops her gaze for just the tiniest moment, trying to conceal her sudden shyness. She hesitates, but then-

"Santana is the greatest thing in my life," she says softly.

Their eyes lock on each other; Santana's heart all but breaks through her chest.

"And…" Brittany continues, "I know she's important to all of you, too. So…"

She turns to look at Quinn and Tina, who amble awkwardly toward her with a large cookie cake sheet balanced between them.

"…I thought we should all celebrate her birthday together. Like a real family."

The glee kids express their happy agreement; they clap their hands and shoot Santana fond smiles.

"Okay, San," Brittany says, "come down here so you can blow out the candles after we sing."

Santana beams at everyone - at Mercedes, at Finn, at Sugar, at Mr. Schue, at _everyone_ - as she steps through the choir chairs. She stands next to Brittany, who bumps her hip and winks at her. Quinn lights the the candles on the cake - a blue 1 and a purple 8 - and Tina says, "Ready, everyone?"

Their friends break out into a spirited, joyful chorus of "Happy Birthday," and Brittany wraps two slender arms around Santana from behind and sings quietly into her ear. On the last "-to you," while Puck, Sam, and Mike extend the final note, Brittany leans close and kisses her ear, and Santana feels so lucky, so happy, so goddamn _loved_ that her eyes start to water.

The group cheers and claps and - in Sugar's case - stomps their feet on the ground.

"Alright!" Brittany yells, stepping back from Santana and clapping. "Let them eat cake!"

"Smart reference, Brittany," Mr. Schue says, patting her on the shoulder.

"Oh, yeah," Brittany responds, turning to look at him. "I learn a lot from watching _Ace of Cakes_."

Mr. Schue stares at her in disbelief. "Uh…yeah. Great show."

Everyone swarms to cut the cookie cake; Brittany and Santana hang back from the crowd and exchange a smirk.

"_Ace of Cakes_? Really? That, from the girl who _played_ Marie Antoinette in our middle-school play?"

Brittany laughs. "He seriously thinks I'm dumber than a rock."

"_He_'s the dumb one," Santana says. "You're amazing."

"Let's get back to focusing on you," Brittany says, smoothing out one of Santana's eyebrows. "Aren't you going to have some of your birthday cake?"

Santana leans into her and kisses her shoulder; quietly, so none of the others can hear, she whispers "I love you" into Brittany's skin.

Brittany smiles against her hair. "I love you, too," she murmurs. "Now come on, let's go eat. I didn't get your favorite kind of cake just so I could stand here and watch Finn stuff himself with it."

Santana looks up: sure enough, Finn is hunched over a paper plate with crumbs falling out of his mouth. She laughs - a low, short laugh - and then Brittany pats her butt to push her toward the cake sheet.

…

"And tell me more about this cloud."

They're lying in Santana's bed, both of them naked, their bellies full from dinner with Santana's family. A small pile of opened presents sits on the floor near their shoes, hastily discarded when they came upstairs and started kissing and couldn't stop.

"Well, the cloud was only big enough for these two baby girls," Brittany says, carrying on a story, "but they thought it was perfect. They sat up on their cloud and they looked down at the world and talked about how they'd be born into it someday."

Santana trails her fingers over Brittany's collarbone, rubs her cold feet against Brittany's warm ones.

"And then the first baby had to leave the cloud because it was her turn to be born. Like, a full four months before the second one…which she liked to brag about a _lot_ when they got to elementary school."

Santana smirks, moves her fingers so they trail down Brittany's upper arms instead.

"So this first baby girl was born on a cold but beautiful January day. And her family was so happy."

"What did they name her?"

"They named her after Saint Ann, the mother of Mary, except they did it in Spanish."

"Why?"

"Because they wanted to make sure that everybody knew she was Spanish and not Lebanese."

Santana laughs aloud at that. Brittany grins and pulls Santana's hand off of her arm so that they can lace their fingers together.

"Anyway," Brittany continues, "the little baby girl grew into an adorable little kid, and then this skinny but cute preteen, and then a _beautiful _- like, super hot - young woman."

Santana smiles. Then she asks: "What about the other baby girl? The one who got left on the cloud?"

"She was born, too, but she was the younger one. She wasn't born until the spring."

"What was she like?"

"Kinda dorky. Really funny, though. And a great dancer."

"Did they ever meet each other?"

"Of course!" Brittany says, her eyes growing bright. "They grew up…and they fell in love…and now they're lying right here, in this bed, and remembering what it was like when they were up on the cloud."

Santana closes her eyes and snuggles close to Brittany. "I like that story, Britty."

"Me too," Brittany says, and kisses her. "Did you have a good birthday?"

"The best birthday."

"What was your favorite part?"

"All of it."

Brittany grins, runs a thumb across Santana's lip. "Be more specific."

Santana's eyes move to the side while she thinks about it; Brittany watches her blink, watches her brow crinkle as she thinks through everything.

Santana's dark brown eyes land on her again. "You," she answers, and smiles.

When Brittany frowns in confusion, Santana elaborates: "The best part of my birthday was sharing it - fully sharing it - with you. Finally. It felt like it was my first real birthday - like all the other ones were just leading up to this. I never could've imagined what it would feel like to have you as my girlfriend on my birthday. What that would mean."

Brittany stares at her, breathless, and Santana releases a short laugh. "What, are you surprised?"

"Just…" Brittany shakes her head. "In awe. I always think you can't get be more amazing than you already are, but then-" her face breaks into a big grin- "you are."

Santana smiles and runs a hand through Brittany's hair. "If I'm amazing," she says quietly, "then you're a fucking burst of heaven."

They both laugh and move to kiss each other - a quick, short kiss and then a deep, long kiss - and they smile and scrunch their noses and clutch each other's faces and kiss each other's cheeks.

"I have to go, baby," Brittany says, pulling away. "My parents said no later than ten."

Santana makes a sad face. "But it's my birthday."

"I know," Brittany returns, kissing her nose. "But I'll see you tomorrow, and we'll celebrate all weekend."

"More birthday sex?"

"More birthday sex."

Santana loops their fingers together and kisses Brittany's knuckles. "Okay."

Brittany kisses her on the lips, then slips out of bed. Santana watches her gather her clothes and pull them back on. She stares unabashedly at Brittany's body; Brittany notices and smiles tenderly at her.

"Let me tuck you in," Brittany tells her.

Santana repositions her head on her pillow and lets Brittany tuck the covers around her body. Brittany smoothes the comforter down over her back and scratches lightly for a few moments.

"I love you, birthday girl," Brittany says softly. "I love you in every way imaginable."

Santana's smile is gentle, peaceful, content. Brittany leans down and kisses her mouth, warm and light, like a breeze on the ocean.

"Thank God you were born," she whispers.

Santana's eyes flutter open again. "And thank God you came along to find me."

Brittany smiles. "Good night, San."

"Night, BrittBritt. Thank you for such a wonderful birthday."

Brittany can't help but lean down for one more sweet kiss, and then, after another exchange of "I love you"s, she pads to the door and leaves the room.


End file.
